The House Maria Manor
by Mattysones
Summary: Autumn session is in gear for Shina High, and Jean and Eren are dragging everyone into their rivalry.


"I want to wreck Eren Jaeger's world," Jean Kirchstein said from the ground.

"There's probably a number of ways that could be taken," Annie Leonhardt said from above him, giving him an expression that said she was completely judging him for still being on the ground and probably for ending his day on his back in the first place, "I'm going to assume you mean the option that won't make you puke."

Jean made a face and looked a little sick anyway, "I have no idea what you're talking about," He accepted Annie's hand to help pull him up, "You're smart, Annie, you've gotta help me brainstorm."

Annie smiled just a tiny bit, but didn't respond.

"Oh man, did you see that black eye I gave Jean today?" Eren crowed. He walked home with his two best friends, and probably his only close friends down the dirt country road that led away from their high school, "I thought I broke his nose at first."

"You're going to end up suspended," Armin Arlert chastised, short and blond and smarter than the entire school combined, including the teachers and probably half of NASA, "Or arrested or with a broken limb whenever Jean decides he's actually tired of you."

"Jean doesn't have the balls," Eren said with his chest puffed out, he glanced to his step-sister for approval but she offered no reaction, "You're just saying that stuff because you're friends with everyone."

"Call it self-preservation," Armin was irritated, "I'd rather have connections instead of a fist in my face every other day."

"That's called brown-nosing," Eren snapped, upset that Armin was taking away from his feat in maniless, crushing his ultimate dream of _actually_ kicking Jean Kirchstein's ass even though their wins and losses came to an even 50/50 and the same applied for who started each fight. Eren was keeping count.

"Whoa, are you moving onto big words now? Can I expect four syllables from you tomorrow?" Armin responded loftily.

"You're an asshole," Eren sulked.

Armin smiled, "I'm your friend."

"The corn maze is coming up in a few weeks," Mikasa suddenly said from beside them. Eren and Armin looked at her, "Do you want to go? I guess the neighboring counties are coming too this year."

Midwest America; The corn was high, the gords were blooming and Halloween was around the corner. Maria County was known for holding all the spooky attractions that the city people drove 45 minutes to get chased by actors dressed as scarecrows and waving fake machetes.

Mikasa didn't get excited about much - if she wanted to go to the corn maze then they were going to the corn maze.

"Hell yeah," Eren said energetically, "We'll eat candy apples, and throw pumpkins and yell like we're scared. Did you know there's going to be live rats this year?"

"I've got a really bad feeling about this year," Levi, last name ommited because he liked to keep people wondering, said dryly, staring lifelessly at his stack of French papers left to grade, "They've been _energetic_ this year."

Hanji Zoe looked up from her considerably larger stacks of biology homeworks with a bemused smile. She knew "energetic" actually meant "what was in the water this year, please Hanji you are my rock, if you don't keep me in check I may actually strangle one of them."

Levi went through this crisis every fall term, even though he was correct; There had been 75 more fights the current year than the last five years.

"Are you talking about Kirchstein and Jaeger?" Hanji asked, "Because I still say they'll be much better friends if we make them hold hands for a day. Maybe wearing dresses for mutual embarassment. Definately wearing dresses."

"Cruel and unusual punishment," Levi drawled, "Their parents will sue us and the school will go bankrupt and everyone will have to go to Dauper and their school can only handle about 500 at any given moment."

A deeper voice suddenly vibrated through the teacher's lounge, "I'm afraid I can't have you talking about my students that way," Principal Smith walked in carrying a cup holder filled with coffees, "Someone might sue us anyway if they heard this conversation."

Hanji's eyes lit as she accepted her fast-food coffee, "May you be blessed by whatever diety you believe in, Erwin," she cuddled her cup close to her chest, "Also, are you not worried about the kids starting trouble this year? Like, actually? They seem more..." she twirled a finger in the air as she thought of a word, "Clique-y this year."

Smith didn't miss a beat as he set a cup in front of Levi, "They start trouble every year," His smile was brief but genuine, "I was impressed by last year's 'nice grafitti' though. That was new."

Some local kids had grafitti'd the school with inspirational messages such as, "You look nice today," "May your dreams come true!" and "Everything will be okay."

No one had been extremely upset due to the nature of the grafitti, but cleanup took $200 of school money in questionable chemcials to remove, and a police investigation from Chief Pixis himself.

The perpatrators were never found, and Leutinant Jarnach had been furious.

"They get more creative every year," Hanji agreed serenely as she sipped her coffee, taken black.

"That's what worries me," Levi mumbled. He was distracted tearing sugar packets into his own cup and finding enough creamers to satisfy himself.

"Yes, well," Erwin turned to leave, and marked the end of the conversation, "On an unrelated note, miss Ral tells me she still doesn't know the area. I told her to ask any of the teachers for locations," he stared pointedly at Levi.

Levi paused in his packet tearing. Hanji watched the exchange from behind her cup.

"Would you like to deliver her coffee yourself?"

"You're a fucking asshole and I hope you get third degree burns," Levi started rearranging his paper stacks to form a wall around himself.

Erwin laughed lightly and exited like royalty.

"No way," Reiner Braun said to Jean. He sat huddled with his boyfriend, Bertholdt Fubar on the football field's bleachers, with a book open on his lap, although Jean was pretty sure the two hadn't actually been studying. Bert silently watched Jean and Reiner argue.

"Please," Jean whined, "I need some muscle and you-"

"I said no," Reiner snapped coldly, "You and Jaeger need to solve your little lover's squabbles without dragging everyone else in."

"Hey," Jean's eyes went stony, "You're the last person to be talking about-"

"I know a domestic relationship in trouble when I see one," Reiner interrupted, unconciously leaning toward Bert to touch his shoulder to the others' arm (Bert was too tall to touch shoulders with, even sitting. Bert made a confused noise and leaned toward Reiner in response), "Just make out already and leave me alone."

"Oh my god!" Jean threw his hands in the air, "No, just no. Fuck you, man." he stormed off swearing loudly and kicking a trashcan on his way back inside the school.

Reiner laughed and looked up at Bert, "That should keep us out of this."

The bleachers made a hollow, metal echo, and the two looked down the bleachers at Annie as she climbed over the seats.

"Hi Annie," Bert greeted quietly. Reiner grunted at her and went back to his book.

Annie sat next to Bert, sandwiching him between herself and Reiner, and shivered inside her hoodie, "It's cold as tits out here," she grumbled, "I should be in the middle."

Bert chuckled and wrapped an arm around Annie's waist, pulling her closer, "We were about to go inside, but Reiner had to fight off Jean."

Annie blew hot air into her hands, leaning into Bert, "I was actually about to talk to you about that," she said lightly.

"Oh hell no," Reiner gave up on his book and slammed it shut, glaring at Annie "Did he drag you into this? Please tell me no."

Annie quirked a smile into her hands, "It sounded amusing. I'd like to see the Jaeger kid get knocked down a few pegs."

"I thought you did that when you threw the kid over your shoulder and knocked him out for five minutes."

Bert laughed, and Annie attempted not to preen, "That was in middle school, and he still pisses me off."

Reiner sighed heavily and leaned his elbows on his knees, "I thought you were friends with his his sister."

"Step-sister," Annie corrected automatically, "I am, sort of, and she knows he's a complete twat."

Reiner thought for a few moments before shaking his head, "No, I'm not getting involved. You guys do what you want," he stood and lay a hand on Bert's shoulder before climbing off the bleachers, "I'll see you guys after school."

Bert watched Reiner leave before looking down at Annie, "It depends on what you want me to do."

Annie's smile was predatory.

Everyone in Shina High School held a healthy fear of Keith Shadis, the Athletics Department Director, part-time sadist, and ex-Marine. He wasn't a cruel man under the surface, and often took over for the normal physcial education teacher when the teacher needed to be absent. He tended to strike fear into the hearts of students both from his gaunt face and ability to project his voice across two football fields.

"JAEGER. I KNOW YOUR MOTHER. WAIT UNTIL SHE HEARS ABOUT HOW HER SON IS A LAZY SLUG."

From a distance, Eren gave out what could only be described as a battle scream (Mostly for humor, a few people laughed), and ran past 15 of his fellow gasping, wheezing students on the running track.

"You're energetic today," said a voice from behind the sunken, hollowed-eye man. Shadis jumped a little and turned in a military manner to greet Erwin Smith.

"Good afternoon Principal Smith!" He said gruffly, "How may I assist you this fine day?"

Smith hummed absently and handed Shadis a flyer from the stack in his arms, "The school has been asked to be a sponsor for the haunted hay ride this year," he explained, "I told them I would see what could be done from a non-monetary standpoint."

Shadis glanced at the flyer that shook in the fall breeze, "What do you want from me?"

Smith smiled charmingly, "I hear you own the property of an old butcher's farm..."

Shadis smirked, "You would like some of the old hooks and chains as props?"

"Intuitive as ever, Keith," Smith praised, "Perhaps you could get some of your kids as actors this year. They need more people."

"We'll see about the second one," Shadis said, "You'll have to pick up the equipment yourself too. Bring three or five strong men - it's heavy - SPRINGER I KNOW YOU CAN DO BETTER THAN THAT."

Smith recoiled slightly from the sudden screaming, "Yes, thank you Keith. We'll make arrangements later."

"Yessir, absolutely sir."

Smith smiled, satisfied and left Shadis to his business.

Principal Erwin Smith looked like a Ken doll, or maybe Captain America or some combination of the two. The result was one part "slightly intimidating", and one part "poorly disguised looks of appreciation from sighing teenaged girls and middle-aged mothers and maybe a couple of their sons."

His personality could be off-putting though, and that was okay with him. Smith was about business most of the time, and the other times were kept to himself and a select few.

Erwin Smith was also on the Chamber of Commerce, and had a special interest in seeing that local events got funding and advertisements. He was transparent in his motives, which made him pushing his weight a little more acceptable and people generally appreciated what he did for them. He had some clout in return, although political power in a city as small as Shina was never something for which he aspired.

Some people feared his charisma and he knew he could be much more than what he was, but for now he was happy.

For now he needed to make sure the yearly haunted hayride and fall festival met everyone's expectations. The city would make money by the attraction and maybe give money to the school because the school helped make money for the city.

For now, he had Carla Jaeger from the Homemaker's Society sitting in his office with a stack of flyers, contest announcements and probably some valuable news.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Jaeger," Smith said as he entered his office. Carla already sat waiting in front of his desk.

Carla turned and greeted him with a warm smile, "Hello Erwin, I just wanted to drop these off and give you a few updates. I won't keep you long."

She was beautiful, and maybe if she weren't married and had a 15-year-old son Erwin would stand to be a bit more charming with her, "Brilliant. We'll have these posted and handed out soon," he accepted the large stacks of paper and neatly placed them behind his desk, where he wouldn't forget about them, "What news?" he asked, sitting down heavily.

"I'm sure Sheriff Weilman will be talking to you about this soon enough," Carla started, "But there's already been some Halloween-related injuries," At Smith's frown Carla ammended quickly, "Nothing too serious, but he's worried that the natives are restless."

Carla smiled wryly, her tone indicating Kitz Weilman's tendancy to be condescending because he was not originally from the area.

"The sheriff is always worried," Smith said carefully, "But his and your concerns are dully noted. We have our yearly safety brief in the auditorium of course..."

"Of course," Carla nodded, "I'm not sure the kids listen to it, of course."

Erwin Smith plastered on a smile and tilted his head forward, "We will do our best, Carla," before she could respond Smith changed the conversation, "Before you leave, may I speak to you about your son?"

"Oh dear," Carla's face fell, but she settled herself for a lecturing and bad news, "What is it this time?"

"The same," Smith said musingly, "He gave Jean Kirchstein a black eye on the football field the other day. Jean begged Keith not to write them up since this was the first trouble in _his_ class," Erwin explained with a hint of distaste at the blatant disregard of procedure, "But I'm afraid this is getting out of hand."

"Absolutely," Carla agreed, eyes glinting in what would be retribution, "They're keeping it between themselves, at least?"

Smith huffed and leaned back into his chair, "To put it simply, Mrs. Jaeger, I think I'm too high on the podium to see properly. I'm not sure what's going on."

"I will speak to him, Principal Smith."

When Eren Jaeger went home that Friday, he knew something was wrong.

He knew because Dad, who was sitting at the kitchen table, looked up from paperwork and pressed his finger to his lips and pointed to the ceiling. Eren paled a bit because that meant Mom was on a rampage and it was probably his fault.

Eren turned and repeated the motion to Mikasa who trailed behind him, and Eren proceeded to sneak upstairs and remain silent for the next two hours, dreading whatever was to come. He wasn't entirely sure what he was in trouble for, but he could think of a few things that may have made their way back to his parents.

Eren jumped nervously when he heard the light knock on his door, and the subsequent entry of his lovely, terrifying mother.

"I see you snuck in today," Carla stated as she observed her son dutifully working on homework at his desk. She shut the door.

"Y-yeah," Eren tried to smile innocently but only ended up appearing mildly terrified.

Carla tried not seem amused, "Do you know why you're in trouble?"

Eren chewed his lip and picked the most innocent thing he could think of, "Did Mr. Shadis call you again?"

Carla quirked an eyebrow, "No, but I'll be sure to talk to Keith later."

Damn.

"I talked to Principal Smith today while running errands. He said you've been getting into trouble."

Eren frowned, knowing exactly what she was referring to, "I don't-"

Before Eren could fly into denials Carla interrupted him with a gesture from her hand, sat down on his bed and patted beside herself, "Come here. We're going to talk."

Eren moved nervously and sat a healthy distance away from his mother, still waiting for the shouting.

"What is your problem with Jean Kirchstein?"

A number of reasons came to mind, but they were nothing he wanted to share because his parents would get _involved_ and it would seem he couldn't handle his problems for himself. Dammit why did everyone have to know his parents?

"I dunno," Eren mumbled, "His horse face just pisses me off." He fidgeted, hoping Mom wouldn't get to the root of the problem.

"Has he been bullying you?" Carla asked clearly.

Eren snorted; As if Jean Kirchstein could bully him, "No. He just. Does stuff. I like to piss him off." And punch him. And interfere anytime Jean talked to his friends.

"Like?" Carla prodded patiently.

"He," Eren reached for the most immediate thing Jean had done, "He was flirting with Mikasa. A couple of times." He said defensively, but even that reason seemed weak. Mom would just know it was an excuse.

"Did Mikasa seem bothered?" Because if she was that was a whole other problem, but Carla knew her step-daughter wouldn't leave someone who threatened her with just a black eye.

"N-no. She just kind of ignored him."

"Then why did you feel the need to get involved?" Carla held back from sighing, knowing this whole conversation was a dead end.

"I dunno."

"Well, Eren," Carla looked at her son, who was doing a fine job at cowering at the opposite end of his bed, "When you decide you want to grow up and tell me what's wrong, Dad and I will be there for you. Until then, you're not going out this weekend, and you're going to help me around the house."

Eren pressed his lips together like he wanted to protest, but didn't react otherwise.

"I'd be harder on you, but the festivals are coming up and Mikasa would be disappointed," Carla added pointedly, "Stop getting into fist fights like a thug. That's all I'm asking. Do you understand?"

"Yes Mom," Eren grumbled. He tensed when Carla reached over, but relaxed when he pulled him into a loose hug.

"I love you," she said firmly, "Stop acting like a jerk."

Eren awkwardly hugged her back with one arm and Carla released him. He waited until she exited the room to grunt and flop back on his bed, suddenly tired and mildly frustrated. He couldn't really pinpoint why he was frustrated - he just was.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone and sent Armin a text:

EJ: grounded. No go this weekend

AA: Sucks. Stop getting into fights.

Eren didn't really have a response, he just blamed Jean Kirchstein for his troubles again, and wondered how to get back at him.

Levi mildly wondered how Erwin managed to _persuade_ him to do things like this. Five years of teaching and living in Shina had never inspired Levi to become "involved in the community" or "put on a more approachable face" but here he was, in charge of directing a mass production of horror and fear.

He didn't have much to work with, Levi mused, as he watched 50 teenagers mingle amongst themselves as they waited for him to get his shit together. Failure would be his responsibility, Erwin had made that clear.

He wasn't working alone, at least, as Levi looked down at the only person he _could_ look down: Petra Ral, the new English teacher who was a theater, teaching and English triple major a mere two years ago. She had gone to school for an extra two years to finish her majors.

_'Quadruple threat,_' Levi thought to himself, because Petra was very cute and also shorter than him and that was always a bonus.

"I have no idea what I'm doing," He told the petite woman, who smiled lightly up at him and glanced at the list in his hand.

"Did Hannes tell you what he wanted?" She asked.

The list outlined the different attractions and how many people were required to run each one. Certain parts of the stages never changed, Hannes had said, but Levi was allowed to make changes if he thought the effect could be better.

"As vaugely as fucking possible," Levi responded bitterly, then caught himself a moment too late. Petra wasn't bothered; she laughed.

"Then let's ask the kids who have been here before what usually goes down," She gently removed the list from Levi's hand, and he watched her grey eyes lit with ideas, "ALRIGHT KIDS," she bellowed, "WHO'S BEEN HERE BEFORE?"

Jean Kirchstein groaned as about half the volunteers flooded forward on Ms. Ral's instruction; Returnees would get first pick of stations and certain costumes.

Sasha Braun jogged by and caught him looking morose, she backpeddled to check on him, "Why so glum, chum?"

Jean glared at her, but couldn't bring himself to be rude to her, "I wanted the black out stage," he sulked.

Sasha perked up and grinned, "Oh, don't worry about that then. A lot of people can't handle the strobe lights. You'll probably get something on it," Sasha leaned forward conspirtorially, "I think I'll be able to bully my way into zombie school girls this year," she stage-whispered, "Ms. Ral and Mr. Levi don't seem to know much of what they're doing."

Jean raised his eyebrows in amused acknowledgement, "Well, good luck with that then."

Sasha beamed, "Good luck with whatever you want to do!" and jogged away among the throng.

Jean looked around at the vast cornfields, and the cleared portions of fields speckled with half-built sets in preparations for Maria Manor.

Hannes owned the properties for Maria Manor, and had turned the old Victorian farmhouse into a local attraction 20 years ago. His house was an actual historical artificact which was one of Maria County's pride and joys; He brought a minimum of 5,000 vistors a year. The county had started organizing its Fall Festival with the opening of Maria Manor, which now had two weeks to open at the end of September in order to be open for October.

Jean didn't have a costume, and had wanted to work on the backstage mechanics, making sure everything ran smoothly. For more than one reason.

This year, Jean had a plan.

He grinned to himself, as he waited for the lines to thin.

"Hey, Jean," Someone suddenly approached him from behind. Jean nearly jumped out of his skin, distracted by his own thoughts and the darkening sky.

The kind, freckled face of Marco Bodt appeared beside him and Jean was suddenly, inexplicitely happy, "Hi Marco."

"I didn't know you volunteered this year?" Marco asked. He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heals, "I do this every year with Connie and Sasha."

"Oh, I didn't know you were friends," Jean replied awkwardly, "Why didn't you get in the front of the line?"

Marco smiled lightly, "I always do the house. No one ever wants the house."

"That's because the house is creepy as fuck," Jean said immediately, "Er, that is..."

"Nah," Marco laughed, "It's creepy. And smells like rat turds."

Jean smiled but didn't know what to say.

"Say, would you want to volunteer for the house? I know the layout and it's more interesting than making sure the stage walls don't fall over. Trust me."

Jean glanced up at the taller teen, who seemed distracted watching something out in the fields. He wondered vaugely about that but didn't give it much thought.

Jean Kirchstein had an idea.

"Yeah, sure," He said, suddenly enthusiastic, "You can show me how that gullitine seems to come out of nowhere every year."

Marco grinned, "Smoke and mirrors."

Before Marco could say anything else the two were interrupted, "Hey, Marco!"

Jean and Marco looked simultaneously as they were approached by Reiner. Annie and Bert trailed far behind him, appearing to be in deep conversation.

"Two things," Reiner started somewhat gruffly. He was sweating and breathing heavily as if he had been running, "The principal just came with a truck full of chains and shit for us to unload and we need more people," he glanced at Jean, "You could help too, if you don't mind."

"Yeah, sure," Jean said, looking at the approaching Annie and Bert.

"C'mon," Reiner beckoned for them to follow, "Second, we're going to the clearing tonight with some beer, if you want to come."

Marco picked up his pace because Reiner seemed determined to hurry them, "Sure. What time?"

EJ: grounded. No go this weekend

AA: Sucks. Stop getting into fights.

Armin sighed as he flopped back onto his bed. He waited a few minutes to see if Eren would respond. There was no reply, and Armin was aware he had no one to talk to for the night. He could do something with Mikasa, but honestly, it wasn't the same without Eren.

Armin was used to being alone. The statement wasn't meant to be dramatic; He was used to entertaining himself. His parents were off researching in Australia and he lived with his grandfather of his own volation, not having the energy for constant travel and changing of schools.

He wasn't in the mood to stay inside for the night.

Armin stared listlessly at the book he had been reading for several days before he gave up and decided to walk. He packed a back pack with some water bottles and a flashlight, and pulled on his favorite heavy hoodie to fight the night air.

His grandpa's house was a small, two-story farmhouse which was more of a townhouse. The inside was kept, but the property hadn't been farmed in years and was now overgrown with weeds. The vinery overtook what was once a tractor, but was now a haven for mice.

"I'm going out!" Armin yelled at his grandfather, who was watching television.

"Don't make noise when you come in," The elder Arlert responded, not taking his eyes away from the television.

Armin smiled and emerged from the house.

Sometimes Armin liked to walk and be alone. Tonight wasn't one of those nights, but he was willing to accept that he had nothing better on his agenda.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of turning leaves, crisp air and dusty ground. The moon was already high and full, highlighting the country road and giving the impression that the fields were lonely and isolated.

The Arlerts' had several neighbors within sight, but at night, when the only sounds were racoons rustling through the corn husks and a few stray birds, the nearby houses seemed empty and looming. Armin got the shivers, but in a good way, like when he was watching a bad scary movie that had only one actually suspensful part.

Armin found himself heading toward the train tracks, which would eventually lead him toward a clearing within a large cluster of trees. The clearing was usually littered with beer cans, chip bags and condom wrappers, and had the remnants of a recently used firepit. The cops didn't pay too much mind even though everyone knew about the clearing; It was too far from the road to really bother with, unless someone actually reported something.

Armin thought a lot.

He thought about the projects his parents told him about when he Skype'd with them, he thought of the things he wanted to see when he was finished with high school. He thought of people and their motivations and reactions, and envied those who were good at artistic things.

He thought about how Ms. Zoe was very pretty when she was excited about what she was teaching, and wondered if that's why biology was his strongest subject (even though it always had been). He wondered if his favorite band would have enough time for one more album.

He thought about how life would be without his closest friends once they were outside their small, comfortable town, and knew Eren and Mikasa weren't ready to talk about living seperate lives.

Armin daydreamed, mostly, and imagined himself being great, and being normal, and his future failures and lessons. He knew knowledge wasn't experience, reading isn't knowing, and he desperately wanted to experience everything.

His thoughts led him several miles toward the clearing. He carefully stumbled over the abandoned stretch of train tracks, attempting to step over the weeds that reached for him. He thought about how now would be a terrible time to be chased by zombies and he would most certainly die first.

_'I would die first because I'd be the first to figure everything out and the producers can't have that happening,'_ he thought wryly but with a smile quirked on his lips.

Armin stopped walking when he heard voices nearby. He froze, startled because the clearing had been empty for several weekends. Slowly he started moving again, creeping quietly to see who was nearby.

Bursts of laughter came from the trees, and Armin could see a small fire blazing. He immediately recognized several of his classmates.

Reiner Braun suddenly looked right at him and stood up, shaking a beer bottle, "WHO'S THERE?" He bellowed nervously. The others around him fell silent.

Armin swore, sure that Reiner would nail him with a beer bottle. He hopped off the train tracks, down the precarious ditch seperating the tracks from the trees, "Um, it's just-"

"Oh, Armin," Reiner blinked in surprise at him and lowered his bottle.

Armin waved sheepishly at the group; Annie, Reiner, Bertholdt, Connie, Sasha, Marco and oh, Jean.

Jean and Armin's eyes met, and a mutual understanding to get along passed between them imeadiately.

"Sorry, I didn't know anyone was here, I live nearby," Armin launched into apologies, "I'll go, I don't want to-"

"Nah, sit down. You're alright," Reiner looked past Armin's shoulder, "The other two...?"

Armin frowned, not appreciating the slight against his two best friends, "No, they're not here," he glanced at the group who he wasn't exactly friends with, "Are you sure...?"

Everyone shrugged and Armin found a log to sit on, officially joining between Connie and Annie.

"We were just playing Never Have I Ever," Reiner explained, "Do you want a beer?"

"Sure," Armin accepted the friendship offering as the bottle was passed around the circle toward him.

"It was about to degenerate into truth or dare," Annie said smirkly, "We're way past intrusive sex questions."

"Everyone is lying," Connie chimed in, grinning, "Everyone here's one-hundred-percent virgin, I know it,"

"How would you know?" Sasha laughed and punched Connie in the arm, "You can't tell just by looking at people."

"That would be like the worst thing ever if you could tell just by looking," Connie said, "Like, people are already nosey."

"You mean you're nosey," Jean said, "Who really gives a crap?"

"NEVER HAVE I EVER," Marco loudly said from beside Jean, "Been able to do a handstand."

Annie took a swig, "That's not fair, you knew I was in gymnastics," she complained.

"You can tell just by looking at me," Reiner said, and proudly flexed a muscular arm. Bert admired him appreciatively.

Armin quietly took a sip.

"Whaaat," Jean glanced at Armin, "You don't look like you can do a pushup."

Armin felt his face turn red at the attention, "When we were kids, Eren decided we were going to do handstands and made us practice for two weeks until we could."

"That sounds like him," Jean said neutrally, and Armin released an awkward laugh.

"Never have I ever," said Bert next, "Been blond."

Reiner, Annie, Armin and Sasha all took a drink.

"Not that I have anything against blonds," Bert added sheepishly.

Reiner snorted and took another drink just because he could, "Never have I ever been brunet."

The rest of the circle took a drink ... including Armin again.

"Oh yeah," Connie laughed loudly, clearly not on his first beer, "Didn't you go through a goth phase a few years ago, Armin?"

Armin suddenly wished he could bury himself and focused on the fire, "I prefer not to talk about that time in my life."

"It was kind of hot," Annie said with a slight smile and tone that might have been the equivilant of a guffaw for her.

Armin couldn't quite describe the feeling he got when she called him 'hot,' even jokingly, "It was a lot of things. Mostly a mistake," he said, embarassed but understanding why the others were laughing.

"BLACK LIKE YOUR SOUUUUL," Sasha howled from her side of the fire, and fell dramatically on Connie.

"Dude, don't you like, listen to country music?" Jean asked laughing from behind his bottle.

"It's _folk_ music," Armin replied with a sniff and took a drink to hide his embarassment.

"OH." Jean laughed and threw up his hands at the correction.

"You are too much of a woobie to be goth," Connie said kindly.

"Hey, I can be..." Armin tried to say seriously but couldn't help smile, "Hard... core..."

The entire circle started laughing.

"Never have I have ever been HARD. CORE." Annie laughed.

"What does that even mean?" Jean asked, "I'm not even drinking to that."

Marco took a drink, "I dunno, I'm pretty hard core."

"Completely hard core." Jean agreed ambiably, and ended up drinking anyway.

At least an hour later, the game had digressed into several side conversations.

"But what if," Connie was talking to Sasha, "You had like a mole that appeared or disappeared if you were a virgin?"

"Are we talking a small, unnoticable mole, or like a half-dollar-sized mole?" Sasha asked, "Because I'd be getting rid of the big one as soon as possible."

Armin giggled, feeling his beer and half floating to his head, "We'd start valuing the size and shape of the mole, and put monetary value as well as how pure the person was morally based of the appearance of it."

"So like," Connie started, shaking his bottle sloppily, "If it was a big, ugly, hairy mole the more pure that person would be?"

Armin nodded, "But we'd start seeing the mole as beautiful because we associate it with purity. It'd become synominous with chastity."

"You just said a really big word that I don't understand," Jean said from the sidelines, and stood to hand Armin another beer from across the fire, "You need another."

"I don't actually drink that much," Armin said, staring at the beers in either hand.

"You think you would, being friends with Eren," Jean commented snidely.

Armin scowled, "Hey-"

"So," Reiner suddenly spoke up, "What is everyone doing for Halloween?"

"No but really," Jean was babbling, slightly pink in the face, "Why is Eren such an asshole?"

Marco elbowed Jean in the side, "Well, we're working at the Maria Manor this Halloween,"

Jean snickered and took another drink.

"We're competing in the corn maze race like we do every year," Armin said, forcing himself to ignore Jean's comments.

Annie deigned to respond, watching the conversation from over her beer.

"Okay, okay," Connie was saying to Sasha, "Do you think people would start putting on fake moles and have like, competitions for the biggest, ugliest mole?"

"Don't people already put on fake moles?" Sasha asked, "Like Marilyn Monroe's weird, wandering mole?"

"That was a beauty mark," Connie said as if it was obvious.

"Yeah, but the 'I'm a virgin' mole would be a bigger, more obvious beauty mark," Sasha said.

"You're assuming people would associate the mole with women," Berthold chimed, "Maybe the mole is a masculine quality."

Connie's eyes got wide, "So it'd be like having a pissing contest but it'd be like, 'my mole is uglier than yours, hahhah your mole is SMALL.'"

"Except virginity in men isn't valued, so that wouldn't happen," Sasha countered.

"Well it _could_ be," Connie said defensively.

"I'm trying to get Bert to dress as a banana, " Reiner said in a deadpan voice, "Because it'd be funny."

Bert's face turned slightly pink, "Can I dress as something that doesn't make fun of my height?"

"Blashphemy," Reiner said.

Armin grinned, finally setting down his second bottle and opening the third, "Maybe you could go as a really skinny Hulk. Or, uh the guy..."

Connie and Sasha turned at the same time, "Bruce Banner," they said simultaneously, before returning to their conversation.

"I always wanted to dress as a suicidal guy with anger problems," Bert said flatly.

"Speaking of guys with anger problems," Jean said loudly.

"Jean, stop," Annie said from her corner, eyes sharp and warning, "I know you're just chomping at the bit, but, no."

Jean laughed and drunkenly buried his face in Marco's shoulder, making no attempt to stop himself from laughing, "Oh man, this will so great."

Marco sighed heavily, "I guess it's time for us to go. You're making an ass out of yourself."

Jean scowled, "Are you guys making horse jokes again?"

"Maybe," Marco said lightly, and helped Jean stand, "Let's go."

Armin watched as the two left; Jean stumbled and leaned on Marco for support and they dissapeared into the darkness of the trees.

Without Jean stirring up a rucus, the remaining six were quiet and split off into their own paired conversations.

"So," Armin asked Annie, "What are you doing this Halloween?"

"Oh, well," Annie seemed surprised that Armin was addressing her directly, "I'll be at the mansion this year, too."

"I thought that might be too conformist for you," Armin smiled lightly.

Annie tossed her blonde ponytail over her shoulder haughtily, "Please, I grew out of that last year. Nothing wrong with some fun."

"No, you're right," Armin set down his unfinished beer and stood, "I was making assumptions."

"You leaving, Armin?" Reiner asked.

"Yeah," Armin grinned, "Thank you for letting me drink with you."

"No problem, you're pretty alright," Reiner said, "See you at school."

"Yeah, see you."

"Hey Armin," Annie called as Armin started to leave, "If we're going to the manor at the same time, we should walk it together."

Armin flustered a little and nearly walked backwards into a tree, "Yeah, sure, yeah."

"I think they're up to something," Armin told Mikasa and Eren in quick, hushed tones during lunch period the following Monday.

Eren and Mikasa listened carefully, clearly neither were quite yet convinced of Armin's excited whisperings.

"Why?" Mikasa asked, "What makes you say that? You don't really gossip."

"Well, I was drinking with Annie this weekend..."

"What!?" Eren recoiled, "Since when were you and Annie friends?"

Armin actively decided to omit Jean from the story. He frowned in irritation, "There were a bunch of them at the clearing near my house and I happened to get invited to join them and I _did_ because _someone_ got grounded this weekend and _I'm_ not a territorial idiot."

"Ouch," Eren leaned back in his lunch table chair, hooking his fingers under the plastic chair, "Okay, so, Annie."

"Anyway, she said some things," Armin continued, satisfied that Eren wouldn't harass him on the issue of making other friends, "Mostly that she's going to be at Maria Manor this Halloween, the same time we are. Annie never does stuff like that."

"I'm not sure that means she's up to something," Mikasa countered, "Annie isn't a hermit or anything."

"No," Armin started getting excited and nearly shoved an elbow into his lunch tray, "But, um, someone else made some comments and Annie had to shut him up. I'm sure it's because I was there."

"Who made some comments?" Eren asked.

"Eh, Marco," Armin lied, mentally slapping himself, "And he's friends with Jean," he tried to cover, "Just, trust me, it was really obvious."

Mikasa's eyes narrowed but she didn't say anything.

"I don't know, Armin," Eren frowned, rocking his legs back and forth, "That doesn't sound like enough to go on."

Armin nodded, "I agree. I just think we should be careful this year."

"That's reasonable. I need to pee," Eren announced, "Be right back."

Armin knew he was going to get a talking to as soon as Eren left. He picked up a fork and pushed at his green beans while Mikasa eyeballed him.

"That's funny," Mikasa started, and Armin sighed, "that you left Jean out of the story, because Annie was telling me about Friday, this morning."

Armin reached for the salt, "So, I didn't want Eren knowing I halfway made friends with Jean on Friday. It really wasn't a big deal because we didn't talk that much," He stabbed at his now salty, mushy beans, "I just thought Eren would get all weird and possesive and I didn't want to give him another reason to fight," He turned and looked at Mikasa earnestly, "I'm just trying to look out for him."

"I know," Mikasa said with a slight smile, and she turned to Armin, "You know, I think Annie likes you a little bit."

Armin could feel himself blushing and that was extremely unnacceptable, "Uh-yeah, I kind of thought so. She asked me to the mansion ..." Armin frowned and thought for a moment, and Mikasa waited for him to get his thoughts together, "Is Annie actually working there this year?"

Mikasa looked up as she thought, "I don't think so. Why?"

Armin made a noise, "I didn't think so either. If she was I wouldn't have thought it was weird she was going, but ..."

Mikasa opened the cardboard box of her milk and took a sip, "I'll see if I can get anything out of her later. We're playing soccer tomorrow."

"I'm sure it's not a big deal," Armin said uncertainly, "Maybe I'm just being paranoid."

"Is it a gut feeling?" Mikasa asked.

Armin blinked and processed the question, "Yeah. A little."

"Then you're probably right," Mikasa said with certainty, "Your gut feelings are usually right."

Armin's natural tendancy to second-guess himself didn't know what to do with the compliment, and he settled on hoping that he wasn't make false accusations.


End file.
